He gave another low groan, his gaze on my face.
I could feel my own breathing becoming rapid, my nipples tight. The scent of my arousal began to hang in the air, along with a thickening musky smell that I’d come to associate with Jackson.
I ran my fingers along the taut nipple again, curious. “Do men like to be touched here?”
“Not as much as they like to be touched in other places,” he admitted, his voice tight.
“Oh,” I said, fascinated by his reactions. And I wanted more of them. Wanted to see what else I could do to him. So I went back to touching him, my hand stroking down the firm wall of his chest. Did I dare to continue exploring?
“You can stop if you want,” he told me, again in that curiously tight voice. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
But I was having fun. And I’d never explored a man’s body before. I wanted to continue, so I just shook my head and slipped my hand into his boxers.
His skin was scorching hot. Immediately, my fingers brushed against the hard length of his cock, and something wet.
Jackson’s breath hissed out of him, and then his hands were pushing past mine to tug at his boxers. “Take these off.”
I retreated, watching as he slid the boxers down his legs and kicked them to the ground, and then he was naked and laying before me.
And oh mercy, he was utterly gorgeous. Shifters tended to have appealing bodies anyhow. We were naturally athletic as a race, and our metabolisms allowed us to eat like monsters. But some people were just flat out mouth-watering, and Jackson was clearly one of them. He had a tan-line right above his groin, and below that, his skin was pale white. The dark trail of hair seemed bold against his skin, leading to the curls surrounding his cock and balls. And, well, he was lucky enough to be extremely well-equipped. His cock was long and smooth, the head glistening with pre-cum. His balls were tight round globes underneath, and I was curious to see what they’d feel like.
I glanced up at Jackson.
He nodded at me, that heavy-lidded gaze watching my every move. His hands still lay to his sides, but I noticed they were curled into fists, now. So he wouldn’t reach for me and spoil my fun?
I hesitated a moment longer, and then my wolf curiosity got the best of me. My fingers stroked through the curls of his sex, and I brushed them against his sac. The skin there was softer than I’d imagined, yet delicate. Fascinated, I trailed my fingertips upward, tracing a large vein that ran along the underside of his cock.
His breathing became rapid. “That feels good, Alice. I like your touch. Your hands are soft.”
“Softer than yours,” I said, surprised at my teasing as I wrapped my fingers around his length, testing the girth of him. Thicker than I’d imagined, too.
“Feels better on my cock than all these calluses,” he told me, spreading a hand out so I could see.
As he did, I wondered how those calluses would feel against my skin. I shivered at the thought, my nipples pricking again, and I shifted in place, feeling deliciously slick between my legs. “Have you had many lovers?” I couldn’t help but ask. I had to know.
“Not many,” he admitted. “Don’t like to get involved without some sort of commitment.”
I understood that. It was exactly why I was a virgin stilclass="underline" pack came first in all aspects. I studied my hand on his cock and wondered if I was brave enough to take him into my mouth and taste him. Maybe not yet, though I was curious what his flavor would be like on my tongue. Instead, I gave his cock an awkward stroke, then frowned when my fingers dragged on his skin and he winced.
“Am I doing this wrong?”
“Depends on what it is you’re wanting to do.”
My cheeks felt scorching hot. “I thought I’d…um…”
“Hand job?” he murmured, his hand moving to my thigh and stroking it in a comforting fashion. Not sexual, just petting me, letting me know everything was okay.
I nodded.
“Those are tricky without lube of some kind. You could spit on your hand.” At my screwed up face of disgust, he chuckled. “Or not. How about lotion?”
“I have lotion,” I said breathlessly, and leaned over to my nightstand, grabbing the tube of lotion I kept for winter nights, when my legs were dry. As I sat back down, I noticed his gaze had slid to my ass and he’d been watching me move. That made me feel all hot and achy inside, in a pleasant way.
I held out the tube to him, settling back down to my place at his side.
He shook his head, hot gaze on me, that thumb still lightly stroking my thigh. “You do it. Put some on your palms and rub them together to heat it up.”
I hesitated. “What if I do something wrong?”
“You won’t,” he said, and gave me that lazy smile that made my heart flip-flop in my chest.
I squirted an enormous amount of lotion onto my hands and tossed the tube aside, then rubbed them together until they were slick. Then I looked over at his face, judging to see his reaction. When he nodded again, I laid my hands on his cock and encircled it, then pumped.
“Ah, fuck,” he bit out.
I flinched, my hands flying away. “What?”
“No, no,” he said quickly, his hand going back to my thigh and patting it. “You’re doing good, Alice. It just felt…really damn good. Startled me with how good.”
“Oh.” I studied his face a moment longer, then encircled his cock with my slippery fingers again, stroking the hard length of him up and down. I repeated the motion slowly, once or twice, then looked to him for guidance.
“Tighten your fingers like a circle,” he told me, and strain was evident on his face. “Stroke hard and fast. I like it that way.”
I focused on him again, my gaze sliding back to his cock. The head was beaded with even more pre-cum, and as I watched, a drop dribbled down one side of the crown. I wanted to lick him - but at this point, I’d get a mouthful of lotion. So I just gripped my fingers around him and squirmed hard at the low groan he gave in response, my sex wet with my own need. God, who knew that jerking a guy off would be so hot?
He made a low growl in his throat that I found incredibly erotic, and I began to stroke again, my slippery fingers gliding over him. I tightened my grip, moving harder and faster against his hot skin, and his hand began to clench my thigh, hard, which only excited me and made me apply more pressure.
Then, suddenly, his big hand covered one of mine and he began to guide my stroking, tightening my hand against him and guiding me harder and faster. Then, with a heavy exhale of breath, he came. Semen spurted onto his stomach and my hands, and I watched, fascinated, as he continued to use my grip to milk his orgasm. His eyes were tightly shut, his face contorted with pleasure.
A few moments later, he slowed and then released my hand. His eyes opened and he gave me the warmest, most sheepish smile I’d ever seen on him. “And here I promised not to grab you.”
“It’s okay,” I said breathlessly, my hands still covered with his come and lotion. I wanted to do more. Keep touching him. Something. I felt satisfied that I’d made him come so hard, but curiously malcontent. And overheated.
As I stared at him, Jackson reached over the side of the bed and grabbed his boxers, then swabbed my hands with them. When they were wiped mostly clean, I retreated to the adjoining bathroom and washed my hands, then crawled back into bed.
To my disappointment, he’d produced a new set of boxers and had put them on. He joined me in the bed a moment later, and I didn’t flinch when his skin rubbed against mine this time. Now he felt warm and wonderful against me, and I relaxed when he put a hand around my waist, drawing me against him.
His lips brushed my cheekbone in the barest kiss. “Night, Alice.”
“Night,” I murmured to him, staring at the wall. I wanted him to roll me over and touch me. I wanted to touch him more. I wanted him to give me a real kiss, not the peck on the cheek.